


That's Not What the Guardian Stones Are For

by muldezgron



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blow Jobs, Helgen (Elder Scrolls), Inner Dialogue, Introspection, M/M, Oral Sex, Thank God We're Alive Sex, The Dragonborn is Not a Nice Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 11:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muldezgron/pseuds/muldezgron
Summary: Of all the times for Athelas to try to sneak across the border from Falkreath into Bruma, he’d had to have the luck to attempt it when Ulfric was in the area. May Xarxes scratch that out,please.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Hadvar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	That's Not What the Guardian Stones Are For

It was a good thing his life was over. If nothing else, it meant he’d never have to explain to anyone what in Auri-El’s name drove him to fuck a Legionnaire against the Warrior stone. There was a dragon, he’d have to say. Destroyed the whole keep, killed nearly everyone, barely escaped with their lives, that whole nine yards.

All right, Fennaril, let’s assume I buy that, he could imagine being told in response. How exactly does a dragon attack lead to Imperial cock in your throat?

Nord, not Imperial, he imagined himself replying. He was steadying himself with his upper arms on Hadvar’s thighs—maybe he should blame the Legion for insisting on long tunics and pteruges that could easily be shoved out of the way. Hadvar was resting one of his hands on his head. Fingers ran through his hair, nails barely scraping his scalp, and he fully expected him to grab a handful at any moment. The fact that he didn’t was a continuous surprise.

Then again, Hadvar _had_ said he’d never done this before. Around when Fennaril shoved him against the stone and kissed him. Exact timeframe? Hard to say. He surprised himself with the kissing, to be honest. Normally that was his least favorite part of the whole mess, and yet there he was, practically jumping some poor Nord Legionnaire.

In his defense, Hadvar did have a very nice mouth. And a good, thick cock, he noted, sliding back and taking his mouth off of most of it to give himself a small rest. Not all the way—he stopped with his mouth hanging open, the underside of the head still quivering on the flat of his tongue. It was a way to catch a breath without ruining the mood, and it seemed like Hadvar liked the sight as much as everyone before him.

“Athelas,” he breathed, fingers shaking and tangled up in his hair.

Oh, right. That was his name now, wasn’t it? He should probably remember that.

He’d seen at least one Thalmor in robes out of the corner of his eye as the carriage entered Helgen. When it was his turn in the queue to identify himself, he gave the first bullshit that came to mind: Athelas of Sunhold. Maybe he’d gotten it from a book, once. He couldn’t remember.

“You’re not with the Thalmor Embassy, are you?” Hadvar had asked, and it was so absurd in context that he burst out laughing. The Nord’s eyes widened, and he stared off to the side in a moment of dawning horror before he managed to shake it off.

“Captain,” said Hadvar, clearly summoning up his most serious soldier voice. “He’s not on the list.”

“Forget the list,” said the Captain, as Athelas knew she would. Hadvar looked at her with a very different kind of horror on his face, but what exactly did he expect? She’d just ordered archers to shoot down a man who’d broken out running in a panic. Everyone in the cart was going to die, because one of them had to be gods-damned Ulfric Stormcloak.

Of all the times for Athelas to try to sneak across the border from Falkreath into Bruma, he’d had to have the luck to attempt it when Ulfric was in the area. May Xarxes scratch that out, _please_.

He remembered laying his head on the block, and thinking, well, I always knew this was going to happen, but not quite like this. Hadvar had promised his remains would be returned to Summerset, which was almost enough to make him laugh again—there were Thalmor _right there_ , but no one knew who he was, and while it wasn’t enough to save his life, it was enough that he’d have a pauper’s funeral. That was more than he’d let himself dare hope for in years.

Then the dragon landed.

The rest was honestly more a series of disconnected images than a coherent story. He could imagine the superior snort over crossed arms in response to this, but it was true. A lot of yelling, screaming, rocks and fire falling from the sky. He remembered running into a tower with his hands still bound. It was a dead-end. Athelas had to leap out of it into the burning shell of what used to be an inn. Somehow he managed without breaking his legs.

The first thing he saw on running out of the inn was Hadvar, diving in to sweep up a young boy before a blast of dragon fire.

Oh, it’s because he saved the boy, isn’t it, Athelas could imagine hearing someone say, in another time and another place.

There was a man in the road where the boy was, Athelas would reply. Wasn’t much left of him when the fire was through.

You always were a fool when it came to children, he’d be told. Thanks for saving this random child I don’t know, would you kindly hold your skirt up for me? Much obliged.

He slid Hadvar’s cock back into his mouth, and wrapped his lips tightly around the shaft. Athelas could hear him moan and feel his knees shaking as he sucked harder, cheeks hollowing with a satisfying ache.

Go fuck yourself, he wanted to say to the theoretical argument. I get to decide who and where and when—I’m in charge of this, and I do not fucking regret it.

It’s such a waste, though. You should be charging.

I wasn’t on the list and he knew it, replied Athelas, pausing to scrape his tongue against the underside of the head. And he won’t be reminding anyone in the Empire about me any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> So, here he is! The Implied/Referenced Asshole Last Dragonborn, no longer so implied or referenced.
> 
> He starts out with Problems, and believe me, they only get worse from here. But that's for a different story.


End file.
